Dance With the Devil
by ForeverRising
Summary: Anisah is an average young girl living in the middle district of Jerusalem. Nothing abnormal or strange happens in her life. But when a mysterious man, seriously injured, swoops into her window, what will happen? Altair/OC eventually.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey there!  
I had this idea for a story awhile ago and never really wrote it out. This was originally going to be an original story not centered around the Assassin's Creed storyline but I got the game a couple weeks ago and decided that it fit PERFECTLY. So, lucky me, I loved the game (of course!) and decided to write this in the world of the game! _

_Enjoy!  
**Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story except the OCs and the plot of this particular story. Altair, the basic background, and any other future characters introduced most likely belong to Ubisoft (sadly....)** _

* * *

High noon.

The time of day when it happens.

_ The hangings' trial._

Peculiar as it was, the trial was _after_ the deaths. A crowd gathered in front of the elevated wooden gallows, listening to an accuser speak of the supposed heinous crimes of those unlucky individuals whose bodies now hung in the air by a rope. Unfortunately for those three, their families were forced to watch as they clung tenaciously to life. Their necks just refused to break and their lives refused to end until the color of each one of their faces turned blue. Limbs flailing, fingers clawing uselessly at their throats, quiet sobs could be heard from sensitive individuals of the family making the scene even more horrid. They couldn't have been older than sixteen. Their deaths lasted for what seemed like hours. However gruesome the scene had become, the accuser kept prattling on and on, making up crimes.

Haltingly, he vividly described a rape and murder done by one of the individuals. An elderly woman fainted, to be caught by a son of hers and carried from the crowd. Several calls went up that the accuser should end it already, that these words were not meant for women's ears. The vulgarity of the description was astounding as the man continued, unabashed, to make up details of the event. However, he managed to rile the crowd up so they too wanted to see the individuals suffer _again._ Gesturing and pointing wildly, swishing his cape to and fro, he was completely unaware of the killer perched on a wooden slab in front of the bell of the bell tower. Like a predator, the killer fixed his eagle-like gaze on the accuser. Chills ran down the man's spine but he did nothing to show his uneasiness. Glancing around the crowd, the man didn't see anyone that could be fixing him with a gaze that strongly.

The killer on the bell tower stood in a relaxed stance, not bothering to hide behind a pillar or the bell itself. He enjoyed when people saw him coming for them, especially his assigned targets. The fear mixed with hatred mixed with pain was always satisfying to look upon. He always felt powerful in those moments. Always felt invincible. That is, until he was hit with a sword or punched by an assailant. In the moments before the kill, his prowess from past missions flooded into the front of his mind. A predatory smirk found it's way onto the assassin's lips. This was going to be very simple and very quick.

As the clock struck and the bell clanged, the assassin used the noise to mask the heavy thud of his descent into the crowd. Gently pushing his way to the front, he found he was running out of time. His insistent pushes turned to shoves at the crowd's reluctance to parting. Drawing a crossbow at the guards' approach, he fired straight into the first guards chest. The thin bolt flew straight into his chain mail and pierced all the way into his heart, killing him almost instantly. The second guard came forward with a sword drawn. With the crossbow, the killer hooked the edge onto the man's hip, yanking forward while twisting slightly and dislocating the joint with a loud _pop_. Finally being able to focus on his actual target, the accuser looked positively terrified. The assassin leaped into the air and time seemed to slow as the hidden blade at his left wrist revealed itself. The two men collided as the knife cleanly sliced through the accuser's jugular vein. He collapsed, his body now a lifeless shell as the assassin slid his eyes shut. For a moment, everything was completely silent.

Only for a moment.

As the other guards realized that their superior had been killed, they began rushing forward to attack the killer. Getting to his feet, the killer sprinted off of the raised platform of the gallows, guards in tow. Carefully dodging swords, arrows, and people, he jumped to a handhold on a building and began to climb swiftly. Leaping what seemed like impossible distances, he jumped from building to building getting out of sight of the pursuers. The killer flew across rooftops as he heard the guards still racing noisily after him. How they could run in all that metal, he couldn't fathom. Killing one last unfortunate in-the-way guard, he was boxed in by a door on one side and guards on the other. As if planned, the large wooden door opened moments after the assassin's arrival in front of it. Another slight smirk spread across his countenance as scholars filed out. He easily blended in with his white hood and red sash allowing an inconspicuous escape route back to the assassin's bureau.

Simple and easy.

----

Dropping down gracefully from the partially open ceiling of the bureau building, the assassin collapsed in a pile of cushions from fatigue. Murdering people always took a lot out of him, as it would any other human being. His muscles ached slightly from sprinting, leaping, and dodging the guards determined to kill him. He should have been much more sore but the line of his work saw to it that his muscles never went more than two weeks without another heavy exertion and even two weeks was a stretch. The job of saving civilians, killing idiotic guards, and interrogating people whipped the body into shape in no time. Even training to be an assassin wasn't easy or without pain for him. For any of the novices, really.

"So, the great Altair is finally tired, eh?" said a voice from the other room, quickly approaching the doorway. "I never thought I'd see the day!"

Altair groaned in annoyance. "Of course. Now, leave me be so I can rest, Irfan!"

"Sorry, friend. Your presence is needed in Masyaf immediately," Irfan responded, looking at the floor.

"They can wait."

"But--"

"Leave," Altair replied with a voice so forcefully quiet and a glare that could kill. He wasn't in the mood for an argument. Or any talking for that matter.

"Will you let me speak?" Irfan questioned exasperatingly.

"No."

Irfan sighed. "Alright, but when Al Mualim tans your hide, don't expect me to bail you out!"

"Of course not. It's not like I saved your life or anything," Altair mumbled from exhaustion with a hint of sarcasm. Sparing one last look at his friend, Irfan shook his head and left the room. Finally alone, Altair closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. After what seemed like endless minutes of trying to find a comfortable position, he gave up. Returning to a sitting position, Altair surveyed the room. The vibrant green ivy that draped over the walls and hung from the ceiling were really starting to get out of hand. Cream colored stone that the walls were made of were barely visible. The only thing the vines hadn't encroached on was the Creed's crest and the small fountain below it. Stretching, Altair got to his feet slowly. He walked into the other room where Irfan had his back to him, reading a book.

"So, Al Mualim wishes to see me?" He said loudly.

With a flinch, Irfan exclaimed, "Goodness, Altair! Give a man some warning before scaring the wits from him!" Altair waited patiently for his friend to recover, a crooked smile on his face. "Yes, he requested that as soon as you returned that you make the journey back. He didn't mention what it was about but it seems greatly important for you not to be able to rest. I suggest you take a horse on your journey, and a fast one at that."

"Alright," Altair's thoughts raged on what sort of subject his summons could be on. There couldn't have been a chance that he was demoted again. That would be just plain disgraceful! One fall from grace had been enough humiliation for an entire lifetime. "Though one more day to rest should be understandable, correct?"

"I suppose," Irfan reluctantly agreed.

"It's settled then," And with that, Altair walked from the room and climbed out onto the roof. The city should have calmed down enough for him to make another appearance.

"I don't call that resting!" Irfan's call reached his ears, making a smile spread across his face. Quickly hiding his amusement as smiling stupidly in a crowd was not the best thing for blending in, Altair looked among the shops of the center of town. He marveled that people couldn't see through the various scams of the marketplace.

"Assassin!" A shout went up from a random guard. Cursing quietly to himself, his muscles tensed as he began to sprint. One of the guards got to close and landed a slicing blow to his side. He stumbled slightly, feeling the blood slowly dripping down his side and the stinging of freshly sliced skin, but increased his speed. Rounding a corner and breaking their line of sight, he began to climb a building and quietly slipped into an open window ungracefully clutching his side and hitting the window frame with his arm. Altair's vision swam as he heard a feminine gasp of surprise and a pair of curious deep brown eyes met his before his world dissolved into blackness.

----

Anisah had never been one to expect anything abnormal to happen to her. The life she lived was one of absolute normality. Her family was an average, middle-class family. Her parents were both respectable people among many in their workplace. She didn't think, nor was given any reason _not_ to think, that she was beautiful or intelligent or musical. Being free, absolutely free, was her one wish though many girls her age wished that. Most girls, including Anisah, also wished that their life was extraordinary but they all knew better. Nothing abnormal, weird, or even slightly out of place would happen in their lives. There was nothing that _wasn't_ average about her life, even her thoughts. Except for the fact a strange, bleeding man had just entered and collapsed in her bedroom.

Walking slowly over to him, Anisah noticed the man laid on his uninjured side while the red stain grew rapidly. Alarm bells rang inside of her head as she hauled his immensely heavy body onto her bed, careful not to let his wound touch her sheets for fear of the blood staining that too. He needed help, and fast.

Running down her stairs to the front room of her family's house, she found a needle and thread and dashed back upstairs. Luckily, no one was home to ask her questions and slow her down. Before she could stitch the wound, she needed to remove his top layers. Blushing slightly at the thought, Anisah set to work. She removed his arsenal of weapons, from throwing knives to a heavy sword, first. Next, she removed his outer white robe and hood, leaving him in a tunic and pants. The face under the hood seemed tormented even in unconsciousness however it was very handsome. High cheekbones complemented with deep set eyes gave a mysterious, almost ageless look to him. With great difficulty, she hastily removed his tunic, knowing she was running out of time and seeing the extent of his wound bleeding freely. Gasping slightly at the amount of scars on his tanned chest, she gingerly set to work on her grim task. Carefully threading the needle into and out of his skin as he breathed deeply unnerved her. She absolutely hated the sight of blood and the thought of even slightly puncturing skin. After about twenty minutes, her task was complete. She tore strips from his tunic to bind the wound to prevent infection. As she bent down to tear another piece from it, she felt eyes on her back. Anisah turned around to see the man, awake and glaring with intelligent golden brown eyes at her actions.

"H-hello," she stuttered. He continued to glare so she continued on. "I sewed shut your wound and bound it using ripped pieces of your tunic. I'm sure I could sneak one of my father's away if you need another."

The man's eyes quickly darted around the room in a panic. "Where...?"

Anisah almost gasped at the hoarse huskiness of his voice. The dangerousness hidden beneath the surface of cold emotionless-ness was barely concealed. "Your other clothes are in the corner," she gestured to a folded pile. The man made a move to get up, wincing at the pain in his side. Anisah laid a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. His eyes met hers in a fierce glare as his hand shot up to grasp her wrist so hard that the bones clicked together. Biting her lip in a whimper of pain she ground out words coldly, "I'm trying to help. If you get up now, you'll just tear the wound right open again and never get back to where you came from. You'd be dead within ten mere minutes so I suggest you release my arm so that I could get you some water and food."

The man warily let go, allowing Anisah to spin on her heel and walk to her door. She paused, "Do you have a food preference?" The man shrugged. "I guess that means no," Anisah mumbled as she began thinking of food that could go missing without her family noticing. There wasn't much. Grabbing a few slices of fresh bread bought not even two days ago, an apple, and a clay jar of water, she carefully made her way back up the creaking stairs. However, when she got to her room, the man was gone; disappeared through an open window along with his clothes and weapons. She sighed.

Good riddance.

_

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_

_So!_  
_What did you think? :D  
Please inform me of any mistakes (other than the crossbow being in the wrong setting of 1191 AD. I am aware. It's just artistic interpretation.)  
**Thank you for reading!** _


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm not going to bother you with a super-de-duper long authors note. Because I know when I read, I just skip them anyway!  
Enjoy! **

* * *

"Altair, you're a fool. I hope you're aware."

It had been more than a week since Altair had stumbled in, his side wound bleeding profusely. Once he had gained enough consciousness to speak, he told Irfan the story of how he came to acquire such an injury and the young girl who was so eager to help him. The baffled man then started harassing him with questions. Why hadn't he stayed? Why did he risk dying to come back before healing? Who was the girl? Did he catch her name? How old was she...?

"Irfan, stop with the verbal abuse," Altair said exasperatingly. "I realize I made an extremely poor decision. But what's done is done. It's the past and the past will not make this damned wound heal any faster! And besides, it's not like--"

Both men froze as a small, timid female voice came from the roof.

"Hello? Hello, is anyone here? And if you are here, are you alright? I followed the blood trail, and I know I tended to your wound. At least, I hope you're the same person or else I'll look completely idiotic and--"

"We're inside madam," Irfan called, ignoring Altair's furious expression.

"How am I supposed to get in? There's no ladder leading inside from up here..."

"You'll have to climb," Altair grumbled, his voice laced with iciness.

A few squeals, several loud curses, and one bruised knee later, the woman stood in front of both men, one grinning mischievously, one frowning deeply. They both looked her up and down, noting her modest dress. Her dark brown, almost black hair was braided back and out of her face with several wisps flitting across her face. Her straight nose, high cheekbones, and gently sloping shoulders gave her a regal look. She wasn't skinny, but by no means was she fat either. Needless to say, Irfan was impressed that Altair could just flat out refuse this woman's hospitality.

"I would be ever so honored to learn your name, miss," Irfan bowed deeply, causing the woman to blush.

"Anisah," she said.

"Beautiful name," Irfan exclaimed and then gestured to Altair and himself. "The angry one is Altair and I am Irfan. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Anisah said, the corners of her mouth twitching. She bowed slightly to Irfan to then settle her gaze on Altair. His hood covered his face this time but she could still picture the handsome face under it. Seeing Anisah's attention captured by the injured assassin, Irfan quietly exited the room. However, he paused just outside the doorway, listening to their conversation.

"Why did you run?" Anisah all but demanded an answer out of Altair as she sat down. He kept quiet so she went on. "You could have died! I told you that you needed to let it heal before getting up and walking! What were you thinking? Honestly, I don't think I've ever met a man whose skull is as thick--"

Anisah barely saw his hand before it grasped her wrist, mid-gesture, and pulled her to him.

"Now, listen and listen well," Altair growled, the intensity of his brown eyes scaring her yet Anisah found herself riveted. "You are extremely lucky that I am a patient man. I should kill you for throwing insults at me like I am some sort of child. I should have killed you for even seeing my face." Altair paused, his eyes raking over her features. "Yet, I take pity on you because you do not know how quickly I could end your life. Do not make the mistake of underestimating me, understood?"

"Yes," Anisah squeaked, her eyes focused on his mouth. Gleaming, white teeth flashed behind soft-looking, full lips. She wondered if they were truly as soft as they appeared to be. Licking her own lips that were suddenly dry, Anisah spoke. "How is your wound?"

"Fine."

"May I see?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so!" Altair said with an air of ringing finality. "Irfan does just fine tending to it."

"Not if he uses the wrong bandages," Anisah mumbled, getting to her feet and turning her back to Altair. She didn't see him coming.

He roughly pushed her against the wall before she even had time to gasp as the air left her lungs. The weight of his body made it hard for her to get a breath. His smoldering eyes were mere inches from her own face. She could feel his breath on her lips as he spoke. His hands pinned her arms at her sides. "You seem to not know when you should shut your mouth."

"So, what are you going to do? Kill me?" Anisah taunted breathlessly. "Go ahead. I doubt many people would care, not counting my parents." The look in Altair's eyes changed from one of pure fury, to fury mixed with understanding mixed with...something else. His eyes flitted down to her lips, back up to her eyes repeatedly. Her breathing quickened. She wondered what he was thinking. He leaned slightly in so that his lips were barely a centimeter from her own. Anisah leaned forward and closed her eyes, wishing to feel contact, but he pulled away quickly.

"There is more than one way that I could kill you," Altair smirked.

"What are you?" Anisah blurted out.

"Believe me, you do not want to know."

"Yes, I do," she complained. "It would help me figure out why you're so stubborn." _And so seductive, _she thought but didn't voice. "And why you keep threatening to kill me."

"Alright," Altair conceded. "If you run, if you inform anyone, if you even have a minor slip of your tongue of what I am, I will hunt you down. There will be no mercy and I will gladly look into your eyes as the light of life leaves them."

Anisah gulped loudly but nodded her head in agreement.

"I am an assassin."

"I'm sorry, what?" Anisah's eyes widened. Her father had warned her about such men. The assassins, said her father, were ruthless killing machines and incapable of any emotion whatsoever. He had said they were demons in disguise, that they were horribly deformed, evil, and sent by the devil himself to torture and kill innocent people. However, surveying Altair's face, she could barely believe a man who looked like he did could be a demon or even anything remotely evil.

"You heard me," Altair replied, releasing her. "I'm an assassin." Keeping his eyes on her, she wobbled slightly on her own feet.

"You can't be an assassin. You can't be!" Anisah exclaimed. "You look nothing like what my father described of them! You're handsome, and not evil! I won't believe it." Her slip of the tongue surprised her and well as him.

He snorted, "Handsome? Hardly. Evil? Possibly."

"Have you even looked at yourself clearly?"

"Why? I've had no reason to," Altair said, incredulously. "I'm a killer. We have no reason for vanity."

"Well, then. You may be surprised," Anisah smiled gently.

Altair blinked in surprise as Irfan entered the room.

"Now, what to do with her now that she knows our little secret?" He exclaimed, throwing his arms wide and chuckling at the looks on their faces. "Yes, I was listening. But no matter, what should we do?"

"I need to go home before dark," Anisah spoke up. "My family will already be worried."

"That's perfectly fine! Altair, could you please...?"

Altair had already grabbed her arm and was directing her out of the roof top of the building.

* * *

**Woo! Chapter two finished. Sorry for how short it is.  
Thanks for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! This chapter was a pain to write. Maybe it's just because half-way through a story I get writer's block. ALL THE TIME. That's why my chapters are SO BLOODY SHORT.**

**Anyway, enjoy! Constructive criticism would be welcome!**

* * *

Once they were out of the bureau building, Anisah was once again pushed into a wall by Altair. This time, however, he kept his body away from hers and his hand was at her throat, slowly getting tighter. He lifted her off the ground. Anisah began to panic. She was at the mercy of a killer.

"Don't think I don't know you lied about how you followed me here," Altair accused. "Irfan may be an idiot, but I certainly am not."

"W-what? I d-don't know what you're--"

"Save the excuses," he growled. "It rained for the past 3 nights. There's no possible way you could have followed my blood from a week ago. And even if there were to be, there was so little of a blood trail, I doubt you could have picked it up. So, _how did you find me?_"

Anisah held down her fear and replied, "Like I would tell you. Face it; you don't trust me and I don't trust you. Especially not after the fact that you've threatened to take my life multiple times!"

Altair's grip tightened as Anisah began to pry at his fingers. "Yet, you seem not to value it. You put on a show of nonchalance but I know better." He lowered his mouth to her ear to whisper. "I can feel you trembling. You don't want to die. You may act tough but I can see through your pathetic facade. You're nothing but a scared little girl who wants nothing more than to escape and tell her father about a madman who hurt her. Well, in case you don't know, _child_, there isn't going to be much of an opportunity to--"

Anisah's fist connected with Altair's face. The vice on her neck was gone as she gasped for air and slid to the ground. Altair looked furious and flabbergasted at the same time. "You've no right to act like you know my secrets. I don't even know my own secrets! I'm just as confused as you are. Maybe if you didn't act like such an arrogant, pompous bastard who wants me dead, I could trust you! Maybe if you--"

"How did you do that?" Altair interrupted in wonder.

"Do what? Hit you? Well, that's easy. I just raised my arm and--"

"No, how did you manage to knock me off my feet with one strike? Even city guards cannot accomplish that!"

"Oh. Well, I just hit you. I didn't do anything abnormal...Maybe you're just weak," Anisah taunted.

"Don't antagonize me," Altair snarled. "Or I'll leave you on the streets. Alone."

And with that comment, Anisah shut her mouth and walked in the general direction of her home. Her thoughts raced. To be honest, she didn't understand how she found him herself. She had been worrying if he had died from his wounds just because of stubbornness. It drove her mad until finally she decided to look for him while at the market. It was then that her vision had begun to flicker and things appeared to be glowing. Thinking something was terribly wrong, she had sat down on a bench. Something faintly glowing blue-white had caught her attention in the corner of her eye. She noticed droplets of brighter patches inside the fainter blue trail. A voice in the back of her head had told her to follow the path and lo and behold, it had led her to Altair. Since the event, she had been constantly seeing things that glowed. Sometimes, they were people whose colors ranged from a dark, dark blue to a bright pink. Sometimes, it was objects that emanated white. It scared her that she couldn't turn it off. So, she decided to speak up and ask Altair about it.

"Uh...Altair?" Anisah timidly called.

"What?" He snapped, clearly not over the fact that she had bested him.

"Does your vision ever, uh, glow?"

"Why do you ask?" Altair questioned, curiosity winning over his resentment.

"Simply curious," Anisah hung her head, feeling embarrassed.

"No, you're not 'simply curious'. Tell me the real reason you asked."

Her words were lost in a mumble of unintelligible murmurs.

"I can't understand you if you tell it to the ground," Altair sounded irritated.

"Because my vision is all strange and objects glow and I think something is really wrong and I think I might die from this!" Anisah all but yelled.

Altair's eyes widened. She had Eagle Vision! He would have to ask Al Mualim about that. Her last comment about dying, however, brought a smile to his face as he started to chuckle softly.

"This is serious! I didn't tell you so you could laugh at me!" Anisah turned red, both angry and embarrassed that he was laughing at her. "Keep laughing and I'll hit you again," she threatened.

That had an immediate effect. "Like I would let that happen," Altair scoffed, suddenly serious. "Anyway, you're not going to die. Your vision is not normal but what you have won't kill you. If anything, it will make chores much easier. Things you need, or will need, glow white. People, depending on their alliance with you, will glow blue or red. Blue is an ally or friend. Red is someone who does not like you and won't hesitate to hurt you."

"How do you know this?" Anisah asked.

"Because my vision is the same. Is it constant for you?"

"Yes," she said. "How do you make it stop?"

"You must relax first. It's a battle-ready reflex used for defending yourself. Once you fully relax, your vision should return to normal," Altair answered calmly. "After that, you could use it at your discretion." That answer wasn't entirely true. When you recieve the ability, it could take days to be able to relax enough for it to shut itself off. And even then, there was still a faint glow residue on everything.

"Alright," Anisah accepted the explaination. Maybe after she slept, it would go away. "Why do you glow blue and not red? I mean, you act like you want to kill me all the time yet you say blue is an ally's color."

"I'm helping you, aren't I?"

"Hmm," Anisah didn't sound convinced. As they approached her home, she found herself wishing that she lived farther away. Even though he was arrogant, snippy, pompous, and stubborn, she liked being around Altair. There was just something about him that she wanted to hurt yet kiss at the same time. Surprisingly, when she got to her door, Altair didn't leave as quickly as she expected him to. She took advantage of his pause and stepped forward to embrace him.

"Thank you," she whispered into his chest. He tensed as her arms wound around him but eventually returned the embrace awkwardly.

"I'm not going to lie and say it was not a problem," he smirked as she frowned. "But I didn't mind." And with that, he drew her close. Her body pressed solidly against him. She could feel his steady breaths as his chest expanded and deflated. The muscles of his abdomen were well-defined even through his thick robes. His smell was a mixture of something herbal (probably from the medicine on his wound), salty and something entirely his own. Anisah's heart pounded in her chest as he dipped his head to her level. Instead of kissing her like she expected, he whispered, "Remember to relax," and vanished.

Anisah groaned in frustration and heard a ghostly chuckle before she entered her home. It was going to be a long night.

----

Weeks passed. Sunlight peaked through the brown curtains of Anisah's room. Her sleeping form stirred gently as her mind slowly woke. The day was warm as her family began to bustle around downstairs.

Eagle eyes watched her awaken from the other side of the room. He was perched on her windowsill, wondering why he was even there, why he couldn't let one of the novices do this job. She wasn't supposed to mean anything to him yet she did. They weren't even supposed to have met yet they did. And now, because she had seen his face, she must either leave her family behind, or die by his hand. He didn't want her to die. He was there to give her that chance at survival.

"Anisah," he called.

"Hmm? What?" She muttered groggily. "Altair, what are you doing here?"

"You must come with me," he said intensely looking into her sleepy eyes.

"Why? Where are we going?"

"I have to take you away," it pained him to say it.

"Mm, for how long?" Sleep quickly faded from her voice.

"Forever."

"Is my family coming?" She asked.

"Yes," he lied. "Pack your things. They'll meet us later."

"Alright, let me say goodbye," she moved towards her door.

"There's no time! We must leave now, for their safety," Altair said, exasperated. "I already wrote a note for you." He retrieved a small piece of rolled paper from the inside of his robes. "Just place it on your bed. They'll know where to meet us," he lied again. Anisah would, most likely, never see them after he took her away to Masyaf.

"They're in danger?" Anisah questioned.

"Yes! Now, hurry up!"

After she had packed all of her things, he quickly led her through the streets to a horse he had prepared. He hoisted her up into the saddle and swung himself up behind her. She didn't even spare a glance backwards as they rode out of the city.

He wished that she had.

* * *

**Hmm...Altair is really growing a heart, isn't he?  
Please, review on your way out! (:  
Constructive comments would be nice! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello my readers. I would like to thank all of my reviewers for the last chapter. (:  
So, I'm really sick. It might be awhile before I get chapter five up. **

**I expect a lot of reviews when I get better. :D (PSST! It might help me get better faster *winkwink*) **

* * *

"How long until we get there?"

Altair groaned in annoyance. This had to be the fifth time Anisah asked that question! Would she ever stop? Her constant questions danced on his last nerve!

"It's going to be a few days. Perhaps a week so stop asking," Altair snapped. "The answer won't change!"

"Alright, alright," Anisah grumbled. "No need to snap at me about it."

Altair leaped off of the horse that they were sharing suddenly. Anisah tensed as he surveyed the area.

"We're setting up camp here," he ordered. "Help me unpack."

"Must I?" Anisah complained. Her legs were horribly sore after riding on the horse for what seemed like days. It was just her luck that her life was being turned upside down by an inconsiderate bastard.

"Yes," Altair replied flatly.

Anisah groaned, yet set to work. The night was still very warm, causing her to take off her heavier layer seeing as she would've sooner, but Altair wouldn't stop the horse. While unpacking the food and water, Anisah heard the light clanking of metal on metal. She peered around the horse to see Altair removing his upper layers and weapons. When he got to his kameez, however, Anisah forgot that he didn't know she was there.

"What are you doing?!" She exclaimed, making him lunge for his weapons. When Altair realized it was just her, he froze her with a stare so venomous and dangerous that she felt a shiver go down her spine.

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" He said, exasperated. "It's very warm! And if you can remove your heavy layers, I will too! Even if you hadn't, this is how I sleep. You'll just have to deal with it."

Getting that particular explanation, Anisah blushed as he removed his hood, then his kameez, facing away from her and leaving himself just in his shalwar. As he bent down to retrieve his hood, she stood there silently admiring the way the strong muscles rippled through his arms and shoulders. In the fading light, the ridges of raised skin from his many scars stood out and gave him a highly-dangerous look. The broadness of his shoulders made her think about when he had lifted her onto the horse. She had felt the muscles ripple then, pictured the way he looked when she took care of his wound then. Why didn't it serve him justice now? Even without seeing his face, she almost swooned at the sight of him bare-backed. She shuddered to think what he would look like facing her.

"Are you done staring at me like a fool? We have work to do," Altair's condescending voice broke through her reverie.

"I wasn't staring at you!" Anisah denied, an automatic reaction.

"Oh? Then what, I wonder, were you looking at so intensely that you didn't hear me when I asked you what you were doing so quietly?"

Anisah flushed at being caught.

"That's what I thought," Altair chuckled, again condescendingly, finally facing her. "Now, help me with this tent."

Anisah's jaw almost dropped at the definition of muscles in his abdomen. She had to force herself to look away, lest she be caught staring _again._ Every now and then though, her eyes would flick over to him, just to catch glimpses of his perfect form. Even with his numerous scars, she could find no flaws. She wanted to look closer, ask him how he got each one, but she knew he would never let her.

"You're staring again," Altair said.

"I...Uh...Sorry," Anisah turned red as Altair quietly laughed.

Recovering from her embarrassment, Anisah proved herself to be quite helpful around the camp. Altair was slightly impressed at the way she handled things. Other than the first few times she complained, she barely said a word throughout the whole process. At last, they settled down to go to sleep. The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the sky was ablaze in magnificent scarlet, orange and yellow hues. Altair took in the sight. This was one of the few truly beautiful sights he had seen in his lifetime. Nature always created beauty that man never could.

Anisah could feel her eyes drooping shut with exhaustion. Tomorrow would be another exhausting day. She looked to Altair who was staring into the sky intently.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked hesitantly. "I mean, if you want to tell me. You look sad, in a way."

Altair sighed, "Just go to sleep. I'll wake you in the morning."

"Altair, look at me," Anisah commanded. "Something is bothering you. I want to help. If you would just--"

"I don't need your help!" Altair snapped, instantly feeling guilty at the hurt that flashed in her eyes.

"Why are you helping me, then?" Anisah wouldn't stop questioning until she recieved some answers. "Why do you act like you can't stand me? Why did you 'save me' from a life that was perfectly normal? Why didn't you just leave me there to forget all about you and everything that happened? Why are you doing this?"

"Because, believe it or not, I _actually_ care!" He bellowed so loudly that it echoed through the area. "Just go to sleep Anisah," he said, quietly this time, sounding more broken than Anisah had ever heard from a man.

She was stunned into silence. Walking over to the mat she had brought along with her, Anisah quietly laid down, her thoughts scattered. Soon, however, those raging thoughts subsided as sleep engulfed her.

Guilt crashed into Altair. He knew he shouldn't lie to her, yet he did. He couldn't tell her the reason he was taking her to Masyaf. That would cause even more questions than she already rattled off! He rubbed his temples, a headache clouding his ability to think. Why did he care so much? She was nothing special, save for the Eagle Vision. Yet, as he stared at her sleeping face, he found it harder and harder to think of her as ordinary. Shifting in her sleep, Anisah's long hair tangled in a web across her features. Altair watched as she struggled in sleep to be rid of the offending obstruction. Her nose twitched as the fibers tickled her skin. She hummed quietly in protest when her hair only worsened the problem.

Chuckling lightly, Altair stood and walked over to her. He crouched down and began to gently lift her head off the ground, then her shoulders, until she was in a sitting position, still sleeping. With his left hand, he began untangling the mass of hair swarming her face. Her face and body relaxed visibly as he removed the strands from their previous uncomfortable position.

"Hmmm," Anisah hummed and sighed. "Altair..."

He froze. Was she awake? Did she know what he was doing? However, she soon wriggled slightly and was quiet once again. Altair relaxed and began to set her down again. As he was doing so, her arms shot out and wound around his neck, keeping her pressed against him. He grimaced and tried to unwrap her arms. That only caused her to cling tighter. Finally giving up, Altair leaned back with Anisah's arms still around his neck and laid on the ground. She shifted and laid her head on his chest, as if listening to his heartbeat. He could feel his face heating up slightly but sighed and relaxed as sleep claimed him.

----

Anisah felt rather comfortable as she woke up. Her bed mat had kept her protected against the dirt and her hair wasn't tangled in her face like it usually was. She felt warm and relaxed even though she hadn't used a blanket. Her pillow was a little bit stiff but...

Wait.

Her pillow shouldn't be that warm. Or moving.

Anisah's eyes shot open to meet warm, honey brown eyes, staring down at her.

"Was it pleasant sleeping on me?" Altair questioned sarcastically. "Because you act like you rather enjoyed it."

Anisah yelped, stuttered incomprehensibly and scrambled to disengage herself from his half-naked form.

"Well, now that that's dealt with, we need to pack up."

"Why was I laying on you?" Anisah asked, panicked.

"Because you practically mauled me into it," he said.

"But why were you that close to me anyway?" She wondered aloud. For that, Altair had no acceptable answer.

Once they were packed, Anisah had noticed that Altair had put his heavier white robes on even though the day was hot. Armed to the teeth, Altair leaped onto his horse and held out his hand for Anisah. She took it and he pulled her up rather roughly. As soon as her bottom hit the saddle, he spurred the horse into a gallop. His arms rubbed against her waist as he flicked the reins.

"Why are we going so fast?" Anisah yelled over the pounding of the horses hooves.

"Templars," he answered in a grave voice.

"Why are we running from Templars? My father said they were respectable men who fight for the freedom of humanity!"

"Your father also said that Assassin's were ugly and evil," Altair countered. "Looks like he was wrong on both accounts."

Anisah had no answer. She looked back to see three tough looking men on horses and quickly gaining ground. Altair swore loudly and slowed the horse. Dismounting, he pulled his sword.

"Anisah, go!" He yelled. "Don't let them catch you!"

"No," she said defiantly, also dismounting. "I'm not leaving!"

"Do you want to die? If not, I suggest leaving. _Now!_"

"I don't want you to die either!" She grabbed his short blade out of it's sheath on his back and stood in a defensive stance beside Altair. "My father taught me how to wield a blade. I can fight. I _will_ fight."

As they approached, Anisah said her prayers to God to forgive her for taking lives. The three men dismounted in perfect synchronization, sending shivers up her spine. She suddenly didn't think God would have to forgive her for murder.

"_God help us,_" she whispered.

* * *

**Okay, for clarification:**

**Anisah's family is a christian, not Muslim, family. Her father worked with the templars and that's why he bad mouthed the assassins and made the templars seem all goody goody. That's also why she prayed to God and not Allah. **

**Please please please review. :D  
Reviews help defeat the evil writer's block. (: **


	5. Chapter 5

**I'M NOT DEAD. DON'T WORRY.**

**I've just had a really hectic time. UGH.**

**But good news is that I'm joining the NAVY! Woop! (:**

**Anyway, I hope this is a good chapter for y'all! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Anisah's heart was fit to burst out of her chest. The Templars now stalking towards her and Altair moved with such deadly grace, such perfectly choreographed movements, that she thought more than twice about her decision to stay. Why she didn't just take Altair's advice and run was a mystery; foolhardy courage and nothing more perhaps. With her pulse pounding in her ears, Anisah stole a glance towards Altair.

His body was tensed and coiled like a snake about to strike, yet open and majestic like an eagle about to fly. He gave off an aura of perfect, serene peace; as if he'd already come to terms with what the result of this fight would be. At the same time, he gave off a lethal presence of anger and violence as if he knew what crimes these men had committed and condemned them for it. Feeling her stare, Altair glanced at her for the briefest of seconds. In that time, Anisah saw the savage rage, the utter sorrow of something she didn't know, and a glint of vengeance swimming ferociously under his calm exterior.

Without turning his head away from the templars, Altair spoke, "Anisah, this is your last chance. Take the horse and run as far away as you can. There's a village, not far up this path. They'll tell you how to get to Masyaf." "But-"

"Don't worry about me," he scolded harshly. "You need to get to safety and this is the only way. Just go!"

With one last glance towards him, she memorized his features not wanting to forget the man who had turned her world upside down. As she rode away, she could hear the battle cries of the three men and it chilled her to the bone. As she continued to flee from the battle, the sounds of clashing swords and grunts of impact started to fade. Suddenly, Anisah felt sickened to her very core. Why did she leave Altair? She had seen the way these armed men had trained. Her father had taken her to one of their camps. Being in the middle of it, she had felt so safe with those combat ready men. Now, however, she just felt frightened. Not for herself, seeing as she was getting farther and farther from the battle, but for Altair.

Her hands shifted the reins, and before she knew it, she was speeding back to the battle. The knife concealed at her hip was repeatedly banging against her thigh. Its weight spurred her towards her destination. Anisah could see the battle far ahead of her, with a white robed figure deftly moving past the attacks of the larger knight. Compared to the figure in white, the knight looked like a lumbering bear being attacked by bees. Anisah reeled in shock after a moment. There were three knights when she had left, not fifteen minutes ago. Glancing at the ground, Anisah noticed blood pooled next to two bodies. Their tunics were soaked with the sticky liquid. A groan made Anisah look up from the grizzly sight. Altair's bloody sword was protruding from the last knight's back. With a sickening squelch, the sword was removed and the knight fell into a messy heap. Relief flooded Anisah as Altair met her gaze, panting from the exertion of the fight.

There was a pause. "What did I tell you?" Altair scolded.

"W-what?"

"I told you to wait for me at the next town," Altair growled. "What would you have done had the Templars killed me and had gone after you, hmm?"

"I-I don't..." Anisah stuttered before Altair interrupted again.

"Exactly," he said condescendingly. "You didn't think about that, did you? What would you have done? Taken them all by yourself? I doubt it. You wouldn't have lasted two seconds against those men. You're a fool for returning."

Anisah shouted, her emotions overwhelming her. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright! I didn't even know where the hell I was going!" Tears began welling up before she quickly blinked them away. "If I'm such a huge disappointment to you, just leave me to fend for myself! It's not like you care!"

At this, Altair tensed. "I don't care? I DON'T CARE? Who saved your ass from those fiends? Who had to practically shove the idea of running away down your damn throat before you listened?" Suddenly, Altair was in front of her, staring her down, venom in his voice, "Do not make the mistake of thinking that I do not care. I could merely slit your throat and be done with you. However, I was the one that chose to save you from that hell-hole you called home. No one asked me to do it!"

"Then why did you, if I'm such a burden?" Anisah questioned insistently.

Altair paused. Many emotions flitted across his otherwise blank face. Anisah recognized sorrow, being the most prominent. Rage, being the more severe one, was shown several times before his face one again composed itself. His voice came out barely above a whisper as his eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "You remind me of someone who was once very...dear to me."

Anisah's eyes widened in shock as Altair backed away and began coaxing the one of the horses out of its skittish hiding place. Before long, they both were on a single horse, riding in silence to the next town. Anisah's thoughts were swirling wildly inside her mind. If she reminded Altair of someone he once knew, and he loved that someone, did that mean that he loved her? No, no. That couldn't be it. It was way too short of a time period. Maybe the person was like a sister to him. At this thought, Anisah's heart clenched. She didn't want to be thought of as merely a sister to him. She wanted to be his everything, without limit. She wanted no one else to have him. A strange feeling gathered inside her chest, though soon overshadowed by exhaustion.

Her eyelids drooped in sleepiness. Now that the adrenaline had worn itself away, her body was incredibly weary. Stooping forward, she began to feel sleep overcome her. A hand on her shoulder woke her enough to be conscious of her surroundings, but not much else. The hand gently straightened her, leaned her back, and rested her on Altair's chest. His deep breaths blew softly across her neck and it took all her concentration not to shiver. Admittedly, this was a much better sleeping position than hunched over the horse's neck. Her eyes once again closed as she relaxed in the assassin's arms.

Several hours later, Anisah awoke to Altair gently laying her down on her sleeping mat before going several meters away to gather wood for a fire. After he had started the fire, Anisah 'woke' and went to sit beside him. She wanted to say something, anything, to get rid of the oppressive silence that hung over them. So, she spoke the first words that came to mind.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Altair nodded before replying, "Don't apologize. You were trying to defend yourself. I won't patronize you for your efforts." His deep voice seemed to rumble through Anisah's chest.

"So, who was it that I remind you of?"

"I'm not discussing it," Altair dismissed the topic immediately.

"Why not?" Anisah asked.

"Because I said so."

She grunted in annoyance, "Fine."

A pause.

"I'm sorry," came a faint whisper that Anisah almost missed.

"Don't be," she responded. "You were merely protecting me."

"Hmm," Altair didn't sound pleased.

She felt him tense when she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Squeezing lightly, she made a move to pull away before she felt his arms encircle her too, holding her to him. Breathing in his musky scent, Anisah was sure that she could stay there, locked in the embrace forever. All too soon, it ended though. Altair's face was slightly red, Anisah noticed, but she thought it was merely from the heat or the sun.

"Go to sleep," Altair dismissed her, not unkindly.

And sleep she did, with her head on Altair's shoulder.

* * *

**1, 2, 3, AWWWWW!**

**(:**

**I hope this made up for all the time I've been gone!**

**Oh who am I kidding...It'll take like...3 chapters for that! **

**I'll get them up ASAP. **

**In the meantime, REVIEW!**

** AND MERRY CHRISTMAS. :DD**


	6. Chapter 6

**SO MUCH STUFF HAS HAPPENED. That doesn't give me an excuse for not updating in like...years...BUT ANYWAY.  
I'm officially enlisted into the Navy! :D  
I've gotten myself a boyfriend. :) Someone who I've known since I was five and it was that whole "friends-best friends-crush-dating" cycle that's so cliche in movies.  
Um. What else...?  
OH! I've kept up with the release of all the Assassin's Creed games. And...I STILL THINK ALTAIR BEATS EZIO ON BADASSERY. Just saying. But the end of Revelations was so sad. D: I won't ruin it for those who haven't played it yet. But...AGH.  
And on a sadder note, my favorite dog died. D: I was on a trip too...I didn't even get to say goodbye...it still upsets me. But I'll try not to make this chapter too depressing for you!  
AND ANOTHER THING. I absolutely CANNOT wait for The Avengers movie to come out in May. I mean, Tom Hiddleston as Loki...That's pretty much all I gotta say about it. I LOVED him in Thor and I can't wait to see his transformation from the misguided little brother, into the terrifying villain that Marvel portrays him as. The actual Norse mythology surrounding Loki is VERY interesting. I recommend reading the Poetic Edda or the Prose Edda if you're interested in the stories from the Vikings. :D**

**ANYWAY. I keep delaying the chapter...SORRY. And...it's not even that long...SORRY AGAIN. :x  
ENJOY THIS CHAPTER TO CELEBRATE MY (probable regular) RETURN.**

* * *

Anisah woke slowly to the distant sound of thunder. Turning her face upwards, she saw the light satin grey of the clouds covering the sun. She shifted her body, or tried to seeing as Altair's arm was draped across her stomach as he slept, to reach for her water. As she turned around, his grip tightened and pulled her fully against his chest. Now lying face to face with him, she studied his sleeping expression. The scar crossing both of his lips seemed more prominent in the dim, shadowy cloud light. Somehow, it fit perfectly. She couldn't imagine his expressive face without it. With a twitch of his face, Anisah's attention was drawn to his high cheekbones. His eyes were perfectly spaced above those and his forehead was neither too big, nor too small. A sudden urge to touch him welled up inside of her. She did her best to resist, but found herself reaching out to stroke his face. Her hand froze as his eyelids fluttered. Afraid to move, she left her hand where it was.

Sighing in relief when he stayed asleep, she concentrated on the warmth eminating from his skin. Usually, she always needed a blanket to keep her warm, but surprisingly she slept the whole night without one. The smoothness of his skin, save for the scars, was fascinating to Anisah. She had rarely seen men her own age without her father present, let alone touch their skin. It was an incredibly enticing feeling. She let her hand travel down to his neck, feeling the tendons and the veins pulsing slowly with his heartbeat. Her hand ghosted over his collarbone and over to his bare arm. Even in a relaxed state, the lean muscle there was defined.

After tracing all that she could softly touch, she began examining his numerous scars. On his neck and arm alone, she counted eight that had been hastily stiched, one that hadn't been stitched at all, and three that were neat and barely visible. She wondered how many of those had been lethal. One scar, perhaps an inch long, had passed within a hair's breadth of his jugular vein. A peculiar pain passed through Anisah's chest at the thought of how he had come to aquire that particular one. She returned her hand to his neck to trace it again. And again. And again. Periodically, her eyes would return to his face, to make sure he wasn't awake while she continued her exploration. Just as she was about to withdraw her hand, molten gold irises met her dark brown ones.

Anisah froze instantly, her eyes wide with surprise. Altair continued staring at her, barely blinking. His arm remained around her waist and, Anisah wasn't sure if she only imagined it, seemed to get tighter. Her breath quickened, partially in fear and partially in anticipation. For what, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she wanted it.

Altair continued moving closer, not breaking eye contact, until their foreheads were touching. His pupils seemed to dialate with every blink. Anisah could feel his cool breath ghosting over her lips. Just when they seemed to be impossibly close without touching, Anisah felt a feather-light brush of Altair's lips against hers. A spark ignited in her stomach and threaded through every vein in her body. With a little more pressure, the spark turned into an inferno that threatened to break through her chest.

In an instant, that pressure was gone, leaving Anisah dazed and confused.

"W-what was _that_?" She blurted breathlessly.

Altair didn't respond. He didn't even look at her as he got up. With startling coldness, he told her, "Get up and gather your belongings. We're almost to Masyaf."

"Altair-" Anisah reached out to grab his arm only to withdraw when he recoiled from her touch.

"_Don't touch me,_" he hissed.

Startled and hurt, Anisah tried to hold back her tears as she shoved her mat into her bag. She couldn't stop them all, she realized, as one made it's way down her face. Then two. Then three. Her bottom lip quivered slightly as she desperately attempted to dry her face before turning to face Altair. Instead of riding in front of him, she hopped up on the back of the horse. If he aknowledged her change of position, he didn't show it. As the rain started to fall, so did the rest of her tears. Despite her fear of falling off, she couldn't bring herself to hold onto him for support.

Hours passed in that oppressed silence. The only sound was the pouring rain and the occasional crack of thunder. Anisah was incredibly grateful for the water to mask her tears that were still falling. Altair hadn't looked back at her once, his tense shoulders fixed straight ahead. As the castle of Masyaf appeared on the horizon, he seemed to tense even more.

Passing through the city gates, Anisah saw hooded men everywhere. Altair quickly dismounted once inside the small surroudning village and led the horse up to the gigantic castle. Anisah felt self-conscious under the gazes of all the men practicing and gathered in groups.

"Get off," Altair commanded harshly. Anisah complied without complaint and without meeting his gaze. "These women will take care of you, feed you, and give you new clothes to wear," he said cooly, gesturing through large iron gates. "You are to respect them. Do anything they ask of you. You are not to leave. Understand?" Anisah kept her head down, unresponsive.

"I _asked_," Altair growled, his voice lowering dangerously. "_Do you understand_?"

Anisah nodded slightly.

"_Answer me!_" Altair commanded menacingly.

"I understand," Anisah mumbled as she backed through the iron gates, desperate to get away from his piercing glare.

"Good," Altair gave her a condescending look before turning on his heel and ascending up to a higher floor.

Anisah stood on the stairs before entering the gardens. The women took notice of her and flocked around to get her measurements and to "_tsk, tsk_" about the shape of her clothing and her filthy hair. She moved in a haze as they gave her a new outfit that showed off her shoulders and stomach, but veiled her face. She dimly registered that she should be modest, but she didn't care. Her embarassment about that mockery of a kiss was slowly fading to anger. As her anger grew, her eyes became brighter, her shoulders became straighter, and her chin climbed higher. Looking at her reflection, she felt proud about her appearence. She looked _pretty_! Her! The average girl whose father couldn't even find her a husband that would take her!

For the first time that day, her eyes cleared and she smiled. That is, until she was informed what the women were used for. Panic began to set in as they described their various purposes; from dancing, to more...physical entertainment. Anisah began trembling as they taught her what they knew. One of the women, Khalisah, noticed her distress.

"Ani," she said, using Anisah's new nickname. "What is wrong? You're as white as a ghost!"

"I-I've never..." Anisah stuttered, redness colored her cheeks.

"Oh!" Khalisah explained. "You're not to be introduced to the other men. We are merely informing you of what _we_ do! A little knowledge never hurt anyone. Oh, dear, we have special orders to keep you pure and away from the others."

Anisah's curiousity was piqued. "Who gave the order?"

Khalisah dismissed the question with a wave of her hand, "One of the Assassins. We know not of their real names. It is less personal that way."

Anisah wouldn't drop the issue that easily, "What did he look like?"

"Bah," Khalisah sighed and shrugged in exasperation. "How am I supposed to know? All of these men cover their faces like we do."

Unease settled in Anisah's stomach. Her family still hadn't arrived. Altair had made it sound like her family was right behind them. What if he...? _He wouldn't,_ she vehemently denied to herself. _He wouldn't be that cruel, would he?_ Anisah's trembling returned. Here she was, in a strange place without the comfort of people that she knew. What was she supposed to do? Before she knew it, she was bolting out of the garden.

Khalisah called after her, "Ani, wait!"

Men, and the occasional woman, stared at her while she rushed past. Her eyes were frantically scanning every face, every feature, every tiny nuance of a person, for any familiarities. _Where is he? Where is he! Where the hell-_, Anisah's raging thoughts stopped as she spotted Altair in the marketplace.

"Altair!" She shouted, grabbing his attention.

His eyes flitted up over her exposed form before fixing on her face, his expression one of fury. "What are you _doing_ here? Did I not tell you to stay with the-"

"Where is my family?"

Altair hesitated momentarily. The pit of Anisah's stomach dropped.

"Altair, where are they?"

Again, no response.

"Dammit, tell me where they are!" Tears began welling up in her eyes. She distantly registered the fact that her makeup would run, but she didn't care. "What did you do to them?" She shrieked, rushing at Altair with as much force as she could. Striking out with her fists, she struggled as he caught each of her attempted punches.

"What did you do! Where are they! Why did you take me?" There was no response for those questions either.

Blinded by her tears, she continued to fight until he restrained her against himself. He said nothing, waiting for her to expend all of her energy, and well aware of the crowd staring at them. Anisah's body was wracked with sobs, her cheeks black with smears of makeup. Her body sagged under her sorrow. Altair gently guided her over to a bench, quite surprised that she let him.

"W-why? Why m-me?" She asked, through her tears. "Why not th-them too?"

And for that Altair had no acceptable answer.

* * *

**I apologize for the more-than-a-year-long wait. D: I just was so busy and my plot bunnies got lost. :x **

**I shall try to update more regularly and more often. If I can. :D**

**I am determined to finish this story if it KILLS me. Also, I JUST finished this. I haven't had time to review it. Let me know of any plot holes and/or spelling errors and I'll fix 'em ASAP. **


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